


you turn me into moonlight

by icantdowithoutyou (asofterkit)



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Bottom Callum "Halfway" Highway, Kinky, M/M, Porn with Feelings, d/s dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:34:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29416446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asofterkit/pseuds/icantdowithoutyou
Summary: "We have something, Ben. It can be anything we want it to be.”Kinky scenes from the beginning of Ben and Callum's relationship.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Comments: 22
Kudos: 53
Collections: Ballum Smut





	you turn me into moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> A former hookup causes trouble for Ben and Callum on a night out at The Albert but back at the flat they find a new way to reassure each other and grow closer.
> 
> As you can see from the tags, this fic is going to be kinky. This first chapter is pretty tame however it's extremely smut heavy. If that's not your thing, please back out now.
> 
>  **Warnings** :  
> Ben recalls the derogatory things his former hookup said about him, brief/infrequent references to grief. Light bondage (cuffs and a harness), discussion of safewords (traffic light system), edging, toys, oral sex, dirty talk (the word "slut" is used), barebacking, rough sex and some mild D/s dynamics with possessive and slightly mean Dom!Ben.  
> Let me know if I need to add any other warnings!
> 
> [Click here](https://artsdrug.tumblr.com/post/641109925323505664/virago-harness) for a sfw tumblr post with a pic of a similar albeit chunkier harness to the one mentioned in the fic being worn over a pair of trousers.

**_November 2019, 10.23pm, The Albert_**

The music is so loud that it’s more felt than heard and the bass reverberates through Callum's chest into Ben's palm where he has it pressed over his heart. 

Ben gazes at Callum’s face, entranced by the way the strobe lights illuminate him and make his skin glow angelic. Ben lifts his hand to trace his ear when it’s lit up warm in fluorescent pink and it pulls Callum out of his thoughts. He leans down and even before they connect, Ben feels his knees go weak. Callum kisses him once, twice, three times. Each kiss is an electric shock and Ben swoons in his embrace only to find himself cradled in strong arms as Callum kisses him deeper and deeper, _oh._

The club is sweltering, heaving with bodies and thick with the stink of sex and cologne. Ben turns his head to the side and gasps but Callum recaptures his mouth before he can draw in any air so he sucks on his oxygen tube tongue instead. It doesn’t matter, Ben would asphyxiate in his kiss before he'd push him away. 

The salt sweat on his lips and the taste of his mouth makes Ben hungry enough to devour him. Callum moves in a way that brings their bodies even closer, impossibly so and it's bliss. His kisses are a kind of alchemy and maybe if they don’t stop the club will disappear and it will just be them and they won’t ever have to be parted. 

And they won’t have to talk about what happened. 

He doesn’t want to talk about it. 

Maybe he falters in the kiss or maybe Callum reads his mind - he often does - but either way he pulls back and holds Ben’s face with both hands. 

“Say it again,” he mouths, twice, so Ben sees. 

“I’m yours!” Ben shouts. 

His brow furrows and Ben realises something that makes him feel sick, maybe that’s not what he wanted to hear. Maybe it’s all falling into place for him now, all the things he’s heard about him, all the terrible things he’s done. Callum’s going to leave him at a fucking midweek 90s theme night. 

He throws his arms around Callum’s neck and pulls at him until he stoops low so he can speak into his ear, “I don’t deserve you, I know but--” 

A loud voice startles Callum and Ben looks around frantically, until he sees it was _him_. It takes a few seconds for Ben to process what he yelled and then it hits him, “Have a good one, Max!” 

Ben scowls in his direction as his former hook-up waves at both of them with a huge smile on his face and his arm around another man’s shoulder. 

Ben fucked him a handful of times back in July and only because he was convenient. He gave a fake name, scrubbed him clean from his skin, deleted his number, moved on. It’s just bad fucking luck that he showed up here tonight, that he walked up to them as they were ordering their drinks so they couldn’t walk away, that he said _those_ things. 

Adrenaline thrills up Ben’s spine. He should go after him; he should fucking kill him for what he said to them but the fire dies when he realises that actually, he was right about everything. 

But he can’t lose Callum, he can’t. Not like this. "Please, babe!" Ben yells, "He don't even know my real name!” He tugs at Callum’s sleeve like a little kid. “Can we talk outside? I can’t hear myself speak.” 

Callum looks down at where Ben’s fingers are gripping his shirt and then, mercifully, he nods. 

They push through the throng of bodies and burst out into the cold and the dark. 

This is it. This is when he tells Ben to go. A tube train rumbles through the station without stopping, the lights flash by and then it’s gone. 

Ben turns to Callum and finds him wringing his hands. “The things that bloke said to me about you...” 

_He’s probably riddled... Bloke like you could do so much better... I only went back for more cos he let me do whatever I wanted._

Bile rises into his throat. “I know, Callum, but if you just let me explain...” 

“All those awful, vile things. That should never have happened, Ben. I should’ve stepped in sooner... You should’ve let me punch his lights out!” 

Ben’s heart skips. “Wait. _That’s_ why you’re angry? I thought you believed him, I thought--” 

“What?” Callum takes his hands and holds them tight, almost painfully tight. “Just because you and him hooked up a few times don’t mean he knows ya. Or us. I don’t care about what happened in your past. You, Ben, you are worth more than that.” His grip makes Ben wince but it’s reassuring too. “Listen to me, you always were.” 

The relief he was feeling a moment ago turns sour. He wants to believe him more than anything but he can’t. “If you think so,” he shrugs. “Look, it don’t matter anyway, it’s sorted now, ain’t it?” 

“No, it ain’t, cos you still think I care what some bloke has to say about ya. I don’t. I don’t care what anyone has to say.” He beats his fist into his chest to punctuate his words, “I know you. I see you. I get to decide what I deserve.” 

Heat rises in Ben’s face and he’s certain he’s blushing but he just has to hope Callum can't tell out here on the street. "Alright, alright, don’t... don’t get your knickers in a twist.” Ben takes his fist away from his chest and kisses his knuckles. 

“I’m yours and you’re mine.” 

“You’re mine,” his voice cracks so he lowers his voice to a whisper, “and I’m yours.” 

“You didn’t...” Callum looks down at the ground. “You didn’t really think I was gonna leave ya cos of some shit a stranger said, did you?” 

“I thought...” He takes a deep breath, “It’s hard for me to believe that someone like you...” 

Callum looks up from under dark lashes and Ben's heart falters. “Ben. Tell me you know that I’m yours.” 

He's seeking something from him, more than just words or reassurance; Ben can feel the pull of it in his own stomach. He steps in closer, closer until they’re chest to chest, drawn by the gravitational pull of whatever this thing is between them. "I want you to be, more than... I want you to belong to me.” 

Callum whimpers, a sweet little noise that makes Ben want to sink his teeth into the soft flesh of his throat. “I do.” 

He says it like it’s simple. Ben told him it was. He wishes it was. 

“Come on...” Ben takes his hand and starts walking towards Callum’s flat. Words don’t feel safe anymore but there are other ways to work through this. 

As they near the parlour, he reaches into his pocket for the keys to the flat until he remembers he shouldn’t have them. Shame overwhelms him and he tightens his grip until the metal teeth dig into his palm. Paul gave them to him, all proper on a keyring and everything. His own set, freshly cut. 

But they're keys to somewhere else now, he should give them back. He tried to, he laid them out on Callum’s nightstand but snatched them back again at first light. It scares him to think Callum would always let him in, that he need only ask. Nobody should have that kind of power, least of all him. It’s easier this way or it was until tonight. 

It was until Callum stood back and waited for him to open the door. 

He knows he should say it’s wrong, the thought that this could be some kind of trick occurs to him and is discarded because Callum, good, sweet hearted Callum isn’t like that, he isn’t like _him._

He just wants Ben to open the door. 

All the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he slips the key in the lock with Callum close behind, close but not touching, not yet. 

Inside is dark and cold and quiet, the kind of quiet only somewhere like this can be, not peaceful but devoid. A quiet that's shattered when Ben turns around even though neither of them speak. 

Callum’s eyes are obscured by the shifting darkness but Ben senses exactly where he’s looking and reflexively licks his lips. 

He unlocks the door to the flat and steps back into the liminal space of the foyer. It doesn’t matter that he hasn’t said anything, he knows Callum is waiting for him to take him to bed. Both of them know what’s coming. There’s only one end to this but it can go so many ways. 

Ben's hand twitches at his side as he imagines seizing a fistful of Callum's hair and dragging him up those stairs on his hands and knees. 

But he doesn't. He doesn't move, he doesn't dare move. He may be weak but Callum is strong and he’s just handed him all of his power but he has enough self-awareness to know he can’t be trusted. 

"Do you wanna--" his voice comes out in a broken whisper so he cuts himself off. 

He waits for Callum to say something, to rescue both of them but he doesn’t. He walks past him instead and for a moment Ben thinks he’s going to go upstairs but he doesn’t. He sits down on them instead. He sits down on the second stair from the bottom. 

He sits down at Ben’s feet. 

"Oh God..." Ben cups his face and finds him trembling and Callum looks up at him with huge eyes that are anything but innocent. "What're you doing down there?" He knows in his bones, his heart, his head, he knows but he needs to hear him say it out loud. 

"I want you to show me. Show me I belong to you." 

_Fuck._

Ben lets his hand slip from his cheek to close gently around his throat and strokes his thumb over his quickening pulse. For the briefest of moments Callum's eyes roll back before he returns his gaze, intense, "Please, Ben... make me yours." 

Callum lifts a hand, not daring to reach out and touch unbidden and Ben takes it and presses it against the growing bulge in his jeans. It brings something close to relief when he leans into the heat of his palm. He doesn’t need to be afraid; his power isn’t in him or between his legs; it’s in Callum’s hand. 

Ben lets go of his hold around his throat to push his arm away. He wants to stand alone in this, just for a moment to breathe _._ "You're mine…” It feels so good to say that he wants to say more. “If... _if_ you’re mine then you’ll do as I say." 

“Anything, _anything._ _”_ He doesn’t want to ruin Callum; Callum wants him to. “Please, Ben, do something.” 

He never was good at doing what he’s told but this is different, for once he actually wants to do it. 

He seizes the front of Callum’s shirt and yanks him to his feet. Though he gasps and stumbles, he doesn't take his eyes off Ben's mouth, not once. But if he kisses him now, he won't be able to stop. If he kisses him now, he'll kiss him into bed and he knows that isn’t what Callum wants, it isn’t what _they_ need _._

“Come on...” Ben shoves him backwards then leads the way upstairs to Callum’s bedroom as if it were his own. 

The curtains are still closed from earlier in the evening when Callum was getting ready. The heavy notes of his cologne hang in the air and even though he’s right behind him, Ben yearns for him. He wants all of him, all the time. He hates that he missed watching him button his shirt, he wants to see every side of him, every angle and corner of his life. 

He peers into the heart of the room and sees nothing but grey black but he _feels_ Callum staring at him, like an animal sensing its mate. Standing in the dark with him feels the way he always thought it would the first time he pointed a loaded gun. Maybe he’s the gun tonight. 

He considers turning on the bedside lamp then changes his mind, even the dim wattage would be too bright. He opens the curtains instead, just enough to let the moonlight stream in. Except it isn’t moonlight, it’s the yellow glow of the streetlamp and the sickly glow of pollution. 

But it’s moonlight on Callum’s face when he smiles so sweetly and it’s starlight that falls over him as he walks over and sinks to his knees at Ben's feet. 

“I belong to you, I’d do anything, anything for you. Let me show you.” It skins Ben alive to hear him so soft, so needy and trusting. 

“When you're good for me… when you're _like this_ , you make me feel like nobody else ever could." Ben cards his fingers through his damp hair and he rests his cheek against his thigh. "You drive me fucking crazy ... You... you.... _you_..." 

Callum tilts his head back to look up at him and there's nothing discernible in his expression. Other people have done this before but never Ben. 

_Anything._ He allows desire to take over. If Callum is willing to do anything, he knows exactly what he wants first. 

He takes a seat in the chair in the corner of the bedroom and spreads his legs wide. 

"Come here." 

Animal on all fours, Callum crawls towards him and Ben beckons for him to stand which he does, he unfurls and towers above him. 

"Strip.” Ben orders. “ _Slowly_." 

A soft rosy blush blooms on Callum's cheeks, this is new and he's still shy but he licks his lips as he undoes his collar because he already knows exactly the power he holds over Ben. 

The reveal of his collarbone, a sly pause before the next button, the mere promise of his beautiful body laid bare, it does something to Ben. It makes him lose control. And when he feels his control slipping, it only makes him cling harder to it and Callum likes him like that, he likes him sharp. Callum opens his shirt out like angel's wings. When he lets it fall, he remains divine, a heavenly thing that even Ben can't ruin. 

"Touch yourself." 

He knows what Ben means, what he wants to see, but Callum resists. He runs a hand through his hair, trails a finger along the line of his throat, smooths down his sides. It’s clear what he’s doing; he’s taking his time, biding it maybe. Ben isn't a patient man but he's enthralled. Callum runs his big hands over his body and squeezes the soft mounds of his chest before he raises a hand to his mouth and licks the tip of his finger and circles a nipple until it grows stiff. 

"Do it,” Ben orders, “ _Hard_.” 

A pained blissful look spreads across his face as he pinches his nipple between his thumb and forefinger, a look that evaporates as he twists the nub, replaced with something darker. 

"Good boy. Now stop.” Callum’s arms drop to his sides. “Shoes off.” 

He kicks off his trainers then places them beside the door with military precision, ever the good little soldier. Ben wants to dig deeper to the submission that isn't learned but is intrinsic to find the giving over which eases his soul. 

Callum unbuckles his belt without permission then stills his hand and waits to see if Ben will allow him to continue. When no objection comes, he looks up from under his lashes and their eyes lock. 

"Do it." He pops the button on his jeans and starts on the zip. "Ah ah.." Ben warns, "Do it _slowly._ " 

Callum clicks the zip over the first pair of teeth and then down, one set at a time. Down and down until he lifts up onto his toes and down, hissing through his teeth with agony etched into his face. 

"Aw poor baby, does it hurt?" 

He nods at Ben with his bottom lip stuck out in the most adorable pout. 

"Good.” Callum chews on his lip in an attempt to suppress a smile. "I see you, Callum. You can't hide from me." 

Even in the half-light he glows pink. Another click of his zip is all it takes for his hard cock to bounce free of his jeans and strain against his boxer shorts. 

“Take ‘em off.” 

Callum pulls off his jeans and throws them to the side. 

"Bend over for me." 

Obediently, Callum turns around and rolls forward at the hips. Just the sight of him like this with his grey cotton boxers stretched over his perfect arse is almost too much to bear and Ben’s heart catches in his throat when he slips the waistband over the curve of his arse and down past his knees. 

Ben’s gaze drifts up to his heavy balls hanging between his legs and he palms his hard cock through his jeans for some relief but it’s not enough. 

He doesn’t trust his voice enough to speak so he snaps his fingers instead. There’s no need for words anyway because Callum knows what he wants and at the sound of it, he brings his hands up and smooths them over his arse to reveal his tight pink hole. 

Fuck, _fuck_ Ben sucks in breath and rubs himself firmly between his legs. He wants to throw himself onto the floor to bury his face in that beautiful arse. And he could, he could. Maybe there’ll be another night like this and Callum will smother him between his thighs, maybe he’ll close his hands around his throat when he asks for air, maybe he’ll push him down, down, down until he’s drowning in him. 

Shit. He needs to focus. 

He stands fast enough to make the room spin and lets his leather jacket fall to the floor as he closes the gap between them. Standing close behind him, Ben slips an arm around Callum’s waist and presses his denim-clad cock against his boyfriend’s peachy arse. "You are mine and you always have been." 

Callum reaches behind him and fumbles until he manages to grasp a handful of Ben’s shirt. "I'm yours, I belong to you," his voice is raspy with want. 

"Ever since I took your hand that day in the Vic I have wanted you and now I _own_ you." 

Ben grinds his hips and fuck Callum’s body feels amazing in his hands and against his own. All that strength pillowed in softness for him to grab. It drives him wild the way Callum mewls and whimpers when he’s rough with him, Ben’s never been with a man so powerful with a voice so soft. 

"You will not cum unless I give you permission. You will not touch me unless I tell you to," to make his point, he grabs Callum’s wrist and rips his hand away from his shirt. "You will not touch _yourself_ unless I tell you to. And you will say ‘Red’ if you want to stop. Do you understand?" 

"Yes." 

"Say it," Ben growls. 

"I won't come, I won't touch you or myself unless I'm told and I'll say ‘Red’ if I wanna stop." 

"There now, that wasn't so hard, was it? Remember it ain't good for me if you're having a bad time. And you want to be good for me, don't you?” 

"I wanna be good for you, you know I do," he pants. 

Ben slaps his arse hard enough for the crack of skin on skin to resound throughout the bedroom, "Good boy,” he steps away and leaves him bent double, stripped and exposed. 

He can’t resist resting against the wardrobe to watch him. His tense legs twitch and jerk with arousal and the strain of holding the position. He wonders how long he could leave him like that. If he’d pass out before he’d give in. Fuck, he shouldn’t think that way. 

He opens Callum's top drawer and digs through an innocuous pile of underwear and t-shirts until he finds _it_. A black leather harness of questionable quality bought for an extortionate price in Soho because the mere sight of it made Callum tremble. He couldn’t deny him it or explain they could find a better one elsewhere, he didn’t want the moment to pass. It’s a thrill hearing Callum say what he wants, Ben would give him the whole world if he could. 

It’s not the world but he can give him _something_ he wants tonight at least. 

Ben grips just under Callum's jaw and stands him up to his full height. Callum leans into the hand around his throat with a soft moan that dies on his lips when Ben holds up the harness. 

“Remember this?” 

“Yeah...” He swallows thickly, “I mean, yes. I remember _._ " 

“Well then, let’s see how it looks.” Ben slips the leather belt around his waist, his touch so light that Callum shivers when his fingers brush his skin and secures it so it sits atop his hipbones. “Too tight?” 

“No, feels good.” 

“Does it now?” Ben teases and Callum nibbles on his bottom lip trying to hold back a smile. 

Straps dangle back and front from the belt and attach to double garters which Ben bends to buckle around his thick thighs. 

Down between his legs, the heady, musky smell of him makes Ben salivate. He fastens the garters so they sit snugly against his thighs but when it comes time to stand up again, he can’t bring himself to. He wraps his fingers around the leather and leans in close to breathe him more deeply. 

Callum’s toes curl deep into the carpet as Ben’s hot breath washes over his hard cock and it bobs in front of his face, so close it almost brushes his cheek. But he doesn’t touch him, he doesn’t give him what he knows he craves. Callum brings his hand up but he doesn’t touch himself or Ben. He’s trembling. Ben scrapes his stubble against his leg and he moans wanton and loud. 

It triggers something long held in Ben's chest to see him like this, so needy and yet so obedient. 

He rises to his feet and grabs Callum's face roughly, his fingers pressing in either side of his chin. "Put your hands behind your back.” 

Callum does as he's told but slowly, carefully as if it were part of an intricate ritual, rolling his shoulders loose first. 

Ben dutifully wraps one of the cuffs around his wrist and fastens it. He knows if he stops now that Callum will keep his other hand in place, that he’ll restrain himself. The thought makes his breath hitch in his throat and he quickly secures the other cuff. 

With his hands behind his back, his chest appears even more broad, his shoulders are kept straight. He holds himself tall with his feet apart. 

"Look at you, you.. you're gorgeous... you... you..." Ben stumbles over to the full-length mirror and carries it over to Callum, standing it just in front of him. "There. D'you see how fucking gorgeous you are?" 

Ben looks at him looking at himself. His eyes pore over every inch of the harness and a moan escapes his lips on a sigh. He sees. 

Ben can’t help but smile, he did this, he showed this Callum this side of himself. He has to believe that no other man could do this to him, that Callum and he are made of the same stuff, born under the same complex constellation. 

Ben watches himself in the mirror as he spits in his palm and reach around to stroke Callum, loose and slow. The chain that joins his cuffs together rattles against a metal buckle of the harness as he squirms and struggles, so desperate for stimulation that even a light touch is too much. 

"You're mine,” Ben hisses. 

Precum dribbles hot down Ben's hand and he can no longer withstand the urge to press his own aching cock against Callum’s hip. Pleasure flashes white behind his eyes, he wants to lick Callum’s salt from his fist, he wants to grind out his orgasm against the solid surety of his body, he wants and wants and he wants. But he needs to stay in control. 

They both need him to. 

He has to wrench himself away now or soon he won’t be able to. He moves away quickly and he doesn’t mean to but he throws Callum off balance. Instantly, it's mayhem. Callum stumbles forward and fights against his restraints for fear of falling with his hands behind his back but they don't give. 

Ben lurches and grabs him with firm hands and all his strength and brings him into his arms to steady him. He leans bodily in Ben's embrace and both of them breathe a sigh of relief before Ben sets him back on his feet. 

"Alright?" Ben whispers. 

Callum nods. 

"Well then, what do you say?" he asks in a singsong tone. 

He expects Callum to say _thank you_ but instead he smiles the sweetest smile and says, "I trust you." 

It cuts down to the heart of Ben's heart to hear him say it and overcome with love he isn't brave enough to utter, he grabs Callum’s face and kisses him, all teeth and breath. 

Ben kisses harsh and violent like the eye of a storm and Callum takes it, all of it, and quells it until there's nothing left but the soft slip of tongue and split slick lips. 

They break apart to breathe and Ben knows he can’t afford to lean back in. "Come here," he whispers and winds his arms around Callum's body to help lower him down onto his knees. 

He looks up once he’s settled with a serene look on his face then smiles light and happy, a daytime smile not meant for here, for now but Callum is always sincere, even on his knees. It makes Ben's stomach roll. 

"I'm yours," he whispers. 

It’s too much. Ben nods in response, unable to speak and turns Callum’s face towards the mirror to retreat into the corner of the room, knowing Callum won’t turn around without permission. 

Callum is so vulnerable like this and implicit in that is _trust_ , not that Ben won’t hurt him, hurt he can handle. He trusts that Ben will know what to do. He trusts in Ben to give him what he needs. 

He sighs and drags his hand over his face. When has he ever known what to do? 

Callum wants Ben to show him who he belongs to. He can do that, he can. He reaches under the bed for their toy box and chooses a few supplies. He’ll give him a good night tonight if nothing else. 

The sound of his boots on the thin carpet makes Callum straighten his back. 

"Now then," he swings a cherry red ball gag in front of Callum’s face and, as if on command, his mouth drops open. 

“I am going to open you up and then I am going to fuck you because you are _mine_. Any objections?” 

Callum swallows thickly. "No. Green." Callum waits for Ben to continue and, when he doesn’t, he slurs, " _Greengreengreen_ _,_ " with a delicious touch of desperation in his voice. 

Ben chuckles to himself. "Snap if you want to stop. Show me." 

Callum snaps his fingers. 

"Good boy," Ben purrs as he positions the ball of the gag between Callum’s lips and tightens the strap. 

They’ve used this before, twice, but Ben still isn’t used to how fucking gorgeous he looks with it in. 

“Do you love being all done up for me? Hm?" 

He nods. 

Ben falls to his knees behind him, “I love it too,” he traces the lines of the harness. It looks so beautiful, there's something about black leather on pale skin that makes his blood run hot. Callum shivers at Ben's gentle touch as he runs his fingers under the strap around his waist. There are so many things he wants to use this for, so many things he wants to do to him. 

He wants so many more nights like this one. 

“Now then,” Ben raises his voice and Callum squares his shoulders, “What do I have here?” 

Ben waves a bottle of lube in the mirror and Callum groans in response. He watches Ben’s reflection intently as he coats his fingers and his eyes go dark in an instant when Ben’s hand disappears behind him. 

He pushes Callum forwards and holds the strap that crosses over Callum’s arse taut to reveal his pink puckered hole and fuck, _fuck_ it's beautiful. 

He may not be the sweet virgin he was when they met but he’s still as tight and experience has taught Ben to take his time opening him up. Once he came seeing stars just pushing the head of his cock inside him, he’s learned to be more careful since. 

As he circles his slick fingers, he breathes out the words swimming in his head, "You think I touched anyone else like this? Do you think I wanted to? Only I can touch you the way you need to be touched. And I will. I will. I will, whenever you need me to." 

The words melt into wet kisses at the sound of Callum whining sweet and high around the gag, kisses that Ben presses into the dips of his shoulder blades where his wings were clipped. 

Under his touch, Callum opens up for him and shuffles his knees further apart even though they’re already burnt and raw from so many nights down on the carpet. But he withstands the pain of it for the pleasure of Ben’s fingers inside him so he gives him two by way of reward. Ben pushes all the way to the hilt of his hand and Callum lifts up, up and moans obscene. 

When he looks down, Ben sees that Callum has caught his shirt between his knuckles and he watches as he gropes with his bound hands to try and get a tighter hold. 

It makes his heart ache in the most indefinable way. 

"What did I say about touching me?" 

Callum’s muffled protests erupt from behind the gag but he doesn’t let go and even though he can’t understand the words, Ben knows exactly what he’s saying, _I’m not touching you, I’m touching your shirt._ He bites back a smile and crooks his finger against that bright spot inside of Callum that makes his hands flop, dead weight in their restraints and all that noise turns to sweet little cries. 

"Good boy," he purrs and works his hand fast and rough. Over and over he hits that spot and Callum rises up to a high kneel and arches his long back. 

Ben closes his fist tightly around the strap of his harness that lays over the curve of his arse and pulls him closer as he thrusts his fingers. Heat rises from Callum’s skin and burns Ben alive in his clothes. He wishes he was naked with him; he longs for skin on skin. But there’s always something between them, something that keeps Callum just far enough away to keep Ben reaching and it feels like that’s just how it should be. 

He turns his face and sinks his teeth into the meat of Callum's shoulder. Callum jolts up in shock and Ben's fingers to slip out from inside of him but he's been so good, so very good that he presses back with three. 

Callum grunts, guttural, filthy but this isn’t enough, not for either of him. He wants to fuck him and he knows it’s what Callum wants to. It scares him, that wanting. Every night with Callum is a feast after famine and it only takes a little meat to kill a starving beast. 

Ben lifts his face to look into the mirror and a voyeur looks back. He watches as his eyes drift over to Callum as he pumps his fingers. He's filthy beautiful; red faced and dripping in sweat, a long string of drool swings from his bottom lip. He looks down and sees what the dark mirror cannot, the barest quiver in his belly, the goosebumps on his thighs. 

Ben draws his hand free and Callum floats down like a feather. 

"You want more, don't you?" Ben hooks his finger and tugs on the rim of his hole. 

Callum nods earnestly and tries to meet Ben’s eye in the mirror and fuck, he may be ready but Ben isn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect, he has to ruin him first, he wants to fuck him in the dirt because that’s the only time this feels certain this can last, the only time this feels like forever. 

"Not yet, only when you’re gagging for it. Pun _not_ intended.” 

Ben rifles through their toy drawer for the vibrating plug that drives Callum wild, the one that fits him _oh so well_ as if it were made for him. He keeps it out of sight of his boyfriend, coating it with lube behind his back. 

With a firm hand in the middle of his back, he shoves Callum forwards then lines the head of the plug up against his hole. 

"Snap if you want to stop, okay?" 

“Mmph.” He nods and the clear thread of drool drops splatters onto his thighs. 

Ben pushes the plug past the tight ring of his hole then twists it _deeper_ _._ He takes it so well, silent save for his laboured breathing and his body held still with only the slightest tremor in his arms. Once it’s in all the way to the flared base, Ben sits on his heels to watch Callum’s reaction in the mirror and stifles a laugh when his face contorts as he realises what's inside him. 

The last time Callum wore it he came screaming in under three minutes. But that was with the vibrations turned on high. _That_ was after Ben had spent a most glorious hour sucking on his nipples as he lay helpless with his hands bound above his head and his ankles shackled together. _This_ is different. Ben knows he can take this and Callum knows he doesn’t have a choice. 

Now this is something he wants a front row seat for. He jumps to his feet and lifts the mirror away to replace it with the chair and sits in front of Callum. 

With a flourish, he takes out his phone and opens the app that controls the plug and turns it onto the lowest setting. 

"You remember the first rule, don't ya? Or do you need a refresher?" It’s not clear if it’s meant as a response but Callum groans and Ben decides to take it as a yes because either way, he knows he won't dare come. 

Callum gleams with sweat and his hair hangs dripping wet around his face. His mouth is stretched into a most perfect _O_ around the gag _._ He looks like an angel who begged to be damned. 

Ben turns up the vibrations so that they're strong enough for the buzz to be heard in the room and it takes a second or two but Callum begins to struggle against his restraints. He loves to know he’s held fast and at Ben’s mercy. All that strength and he can’t get free, if Ben wasn’t so desperate to fuck him, he’d force him to come against his will and punish his insubordination. Maybe next time. 

As a moan falls from his mouth so does a drop of drool and it rolls down his chest to pool, glistening, in the crease of his belly. 

He's a mess, wet and writhing. Fuck, it's beautiful, he's beautiful. 

Ben opens his jeans before he’s even decided to do it and eases his cock out of the opening in his boxers and the cool air of the bedroom feels as good as a lover's hand on his aching length. He’s always loved to watch but he’s never had something so pretty to look at. 

When he looks at Callum his eyes are fixed between his legs. With one hand he turns up the vibrations and with the other he closes his fist around his aching cock, if he’s looking then he may as well put on a show. Callum’s chest heaves and his stomach draws in tight as he fights himself to hold on and be good. 

“Look at you, on your knees for me, done up for me, _drooling_ for me.” He dares to stroke his cock with a loose roll of his hand. “You’re a slut but you’re mine, you’re— _ah_... you belong to me, my... my....” he teases his slit with his calloused thumb as Callum jerks and whines. He can’t lose control before Callum does, that's not how this is supposed to go. 

He turns the vibrations on to pulse. Callum’s eyes flutter and he falls back to sit on his heels. At first he's still but he begins to roll his body over and over, his cock jutting up on the crest of each wave. He shuffles his knees apart and Ben wonders if the way it makes him moan is because of the carpet scorching his skin. He confessed he loves pain but Ben hasn’t tested his limits, yet. 

His shoulders pop and crack and his head lolls back to reveal his thick neck corded with tension. Moans fall on every exhale _mmph.. mmph.. mmph.._ in a rhythmic hymn to pleasure and the chain of the cuffs rattles as he moves and doesn't stop moving. 

Ben shifts his hand to cup and squeeze his balls and it's pure ecstasy. Callum is restless and desperate, getting closer to the edge with every passing second, they both are. 

Ben watches him, drifting out in space, his movements becoming erratic. It’s beautiful until he starts choking on his spit. Ben jumps up too late, Callum tries to sit up and ends up slumped to one side on his hip with his legs askew beneath him. 

Ben watches with his heart in his mouth but he relaxes when Callum groans and squeezes his eyes closed and a spurt of precum dribbles along his length and onto his thigh, melting thick and viscous over the black leather garters. 

_Oh._ He settles back down and when he looks up, he finds Callum staring at him. “What?” Callum leans forwards and strains towards Ben, his gaze fixed on his leaking cock. “You want this?” He shakes his cock and Callum nods, he fucking _nods._

With a tap, Ben kills the vibrations and Callum slumps like a puppet with its strings cut. Drool trickles along his arm and drips off his elbow. It’s obscene; it’s fucking hot. 

Shuffling on weak legs, Ben goes to him and bends down to kiss the corner of his mouth. Callum leans into him, a silent prayer for _more_ so Ben sinks onto the floor in front of him, his dark jeans in stark contrast with Callum's naked skin. 

Tenderly, Ben kisses the cleft of his chin he so adores, kissing away the ribbon of drool that adorns it then knees in closer until the leaking tips of their cocks are pressed against each other’s stomachs. It feels intimate but incomplete, the kind of frustration they both love. 

Gazing at him almost makes Ben forget his need so lost in his loveliness. But his pink lips look so pretty stretched around the ball that it soon comes flooding back. Ben holds onto the harness and leans in to trail the tip of his tongue along Callum's wet bottom lip and a tremor runs all through him in response. Ben cups his face and presses a kiss against the ball of the gag and another, fingers curling behind his jaw and he nuzzles into the palm of his hand. 

Nobody has ever wanted him the way Callum does, nobody ever will again. 

_Ugh. Enough._

He grasps his boyfriend's broad shoulders and hauls himself to his feet fast enough to make him reel then grasps a fistful of his hair to wrench his head back, “You want my cock? Hm?" 

Callum slavers and gurgles around the gag, so many years spent so ravenous that he began devouring his own heart. Now he’s hungry for something else, something _more_. 

Ben grasps a fistful of his hair and yanks his head back to look at him. Spit foams at the corners of his mouth and Ben wipes it away with his thumb. “You're a mess, you’re a fucking mess and it’s all for me.” 

_It’s all for me._

The truth of his words comes back on him and hits him full force. He knows he has to undo the gag but his hands are shaking. He likes it when Callum can’t talk back, it’s easier to do this when he doesn’t have his sweet sincerity in his ear. 

He’s so scared of what Callum might say that he forgets to be scared of what he might _do._ He unbuckles the straps and waits for the sound of it hitting the floor but none comes. He glances over Callum’s shoulder but it isn’t there. 

And then it dawns on him, Callum is holding it between his teeth. He’s waiting for permission to spit it out. Ben stands in front of him, hands cupped under his mouth and only then does he let go of the cherry red ball. 

He waits for Callum to speak or look at him, something, _anything_ but he remains silent with his head bowed. It’s as close to devotion as anything Ben has ever known and he throws the gag into the dark belly of the room where it lands, unseen, with a thud. 

He wants to scream, _What the fuck is wrong with you?!_ because there must be something wrong with him to stay down there on his knees for a man like him. 

He looks down at his boots either side of Callum’s bare legs. The dirty and the divine. He could crush him. Just because he doesn’t want to, just because he wouldn’t doesn’t mean he _can’t._ Callum should be scared, why isn’t he scared? 

He puts his foot between his legs and lifts his heavy balls with the toe of his boot and Callum doesn’t even flinch let alone attempt to break his bonds. He does it again and Callum’s cock twitches and a spurt of precum trickles along his length and onto the leather tongue of Ben’s boot. Fuck, he _likes_ it. 

“I’d make you lick ‘em clean, but I don’t think that dirt would come off.” 

Nothing. 

Using two fingers under his chin, Ben lifts his face, his beautiful, beautiful face and oh, of course there’s nothing wrong with him, he’s perfect. To Callum, Ben is worthy. Maybe it doesn’t matter that he’s wrong. 

He sucks gently on his bottom lip staring at Ben’s cock bobbing in front of his face. Ben sucks in air through his teeth to try and cool his desire but it doesn’t do anything to ease him. 

He spreads his legs, feet either side of Callum’s thighs so close that the leather of Callum’s garters squeaks against his boots and takes hold of his face with both hands. 

As he’s holding him, Callum’s pink tongue lolls out of his pretty mouth, wet and inviting. He’s such a fucking dream. 

Slowly, Ben pulls him forwards and slides Callum’s wet, hot mouth onto his cock. Not daring to move a muscle, he stands tense as he moves Callum down, down, almost all the way down. If he moves, he won't be able to stop his body from taking over and if he doesn’t hold onto this semblance of control, he’ll fall apart. 

Hitting the back of his throat makes Callum gag bodily though he tries his best to hold himself still and be good for Ben. Ben strokes his face with his thumbs and gently pushes him back. At first, he seems relieved, his shoulders slumping from where they’d been held rigid up round his ears. But then he looks up at Ben with huge, pleading eyes and he stops. He doesn’t get it, not at first, not until Callum hollows his cheeks and begins sucking hard as if he’s trying to fucking inhale his cock. 

Ben starts to push him backwards again but just to feel the velvet vacuum of his mouth. 

He tangles one hand in Callum’s hair and turns his face to the ceiling, if he looks at him like this, all doe eyed and dirty, he’ll explode down his throat. He’s so good at this because he fucking loves it. 

He loves it. He loves-- 

Ben's knee gives way and he jerks forward, nearly ending up bent double over his boyfriend and then there’s that familiar drawing in and-- In a panic, Ben shoves his shoulder and his cock pops free of his mouth. 

"Fuck," he hisses. 

Self-amazed he looks down at his throbbing cock. A string of drool connects them from the head to Callum's bottom lip, lovely and delicate. He breaks it with his fingers then pushes three inside Callum's pretty mouth and Callum moans around them, swallowing them until his teeth clack against Ben’s ring. 

“You want more?” 

“Mm hm,” he moans. 

Ben draws his fingers free and captures Callum’s face with both hands and slides his mouth over the head of his cock and this time he tilts his head to follow the left leaning of Ben’s cock. He’s so fucking good at this and God, the things he does with his tongue. Ben strokes his thumb reverentially over the open hinge of Callum’s jaw as he moves, if he wasn’t already in love with him, well... 

He pulls him closer and Callum moans loudly, absently Ben wonders if he could come just from being used but he isn’t ready to find out. 

Callum slurps noisily, salivating over his cock, “Love that you love it so much... ah...” He doesn’t know why he thought he could handle it this time; Callum uses his tongue to tickle all around the head of his cock then presses firmly into Ben’s length and it’s too much, too good. 

He puts his hands on Callum’s body and shoves him away, drawing out of his mouth with a wet _smack_ and then everything is silent. Or not silent, he just can’t hear over the blood thundering in his ears. 

All he can do is breathe in and out, slow and steady and wait until his head clears. He doesn’t dare look at Callum’s face so he fixates instead on his long neck and his heaving belly and... and _oh_ , his cock, fuck, it’s gorgeous. The tip is cherry red and swollen, shining and-- 

Callum nudges his cock with his nose and Ben snaps his gaze up to his face. “Oh...” 

Ben reels backwards and Callum sways, thrown off balance, but he doesn’t fall. 

He doesn’t know what to do or he doesn’t know what to do _first._ But Callum deserves to see how fucking gorgeous he looks so he decides to begin by dragging the mirror back into place. It’s one of those fucking ridiculous moments, walking the mirror along the carpet while he’s hard and dripping and his are hands shaking. Luckily he’s beyond caring how he looks. 

He watches his reflection sink to its knees behind Callum and hide its face behind his back. 

"You’re mine, you're mine, I’m so proud of you-- _Oh_ ," he breathes in the smell of his neck and nips at the skin until he finds a tender place to sink his teeth into. Sucking a mark into his throat makes him realise how badly he needs him, the way you don’t know just how hungry you are until you start to eat. 

His cock is a loaded gun and he presses it into Callum’s back by way of a threat that’s also a promise. “Do you feel that?” He whispers, “ _That's_ what you do to me." 

He slips his arms through Callum's and runs his hands across the planes of his chest and in the mirror, they're one body. 

Using the calloused pad of his thumb, he teases Callum’s more sensitive nipple making him squirm and whispers hot and dirty in his ear, "I'm gonna fuck you," he squeezes the peak of it to punctuate his words and Callum cries out in blissful agony, "I'm gonna fill you up cos you're mine." 

He takes hold of the strap at Callum’s hip to hold him close and grinds his cock into his back. "Gonna... _ah_... gonna fuck you." He flicks his nipple and Callum turns to try and see his face. "No, no watch yourself." 

Callum turns back to the mirror starry eyed; he’s floating out in space now. 

Ben wraps his hand around Callum’s cock and watches himself stroking it slowly in the mirror as he works his own into the sweat slick cleft of his arse. Both the pleasure pooling in his belly and the meat in his hand are his. Callum gave him all this power because he wants him to use it; he wants Ben to show him what nobody else ever has. 

That he belongs. 

Ben wraps his arms around his boyfriend and sways him gently, scattering kisses across his shoulders. “I’m gonna make you mine, Callum." 

Once he’s pronounced the final syllable, Callum goes loose and boneless in his arms. He isn’t resigned, he’s _relieved_. He rolls forwards but Ben doesn’t let go, holding onto him, keeping him safe in his arms all the way down, down. He comes to rest face down on the carpet and Ben stays, nestled against his body until he whispers the quietest, “I’m ready.” 

Ben kneels up and takes him in. The vision before him is sinful, Callum face down face down with his cheek turned to one side, his arms shaking where they're cuffed to his back, stretched out by the plug and his thighs, wrapped in leather and spread wide with his gorgeous heavy balls hanging between them. 

He's so helpless and exposed. Bent forward as if in supplication, his body an offering. 

Ben looks at himself behind Callum in the mirror. He could do anything, _anything_ to him and he just wants to make him come. The thought makes him laugh, for so long he was desperate for something nameless and he asked for it everywhere, in dark corners, on cold nights, on bended knee and on his back and now it all seems so simple. 

A bead of sweat trickles along the length of his nose and he takes off his shirt even though it isn’t what’s making him hot. Now all he wants skin on skin, to _feel_ his body. 

Callum is ready and waiting, trembling with anticipation. 

_It’s all for me._

Ben braces one hand on Callum’s back and with the other he trails his fingers along the cleft of his arse across the base of the plug and along his taint and the seam of his balls and then back, over and over, until Callum’s breath falls as faint cries. 

He has him exactly where he wants him so he clicks open the bottle of lube with his teeth and squeezes out a generous amount. “Ready?” 

“Yeah... Yes. _Yes._ ” 

Grasping the base of the plug, Ben begins to work it free as Callum writhes and moans. Watching it stretch out the tight rim of his hole makes his cock twitch almost painfully. He reaches between his legs and tugs on his balls but it doesn’t do a fucking thing to alleviate the burn. He twists the plug again and watches Callum's hole gape open and both of them grunt as Ben pulls it free. 

There’s nothing stopping him now. Callum wiggles his arse and Ben opens his mouth to let the saliva that's been building dribble from his lips down the cleft of his arse to run into his pink hole. 

“You’re mine,” he slaps the head of his cock against his entrance and Callum cries out high pitched and desperate. 

Tonight, he’s the big man with the gun and Callum wants to be _owned_ by him. He takes a breath and locks eyes with himself in the mirror. He looks powerful, in control. And he is. 

He sinks his fingers into the soft flesh of Callum's arse and he mewls as Ben’s pushes forwards inside of him. The tight heat makes him lightheaded so he lets his body weight take him deeper. 

There’s nothing he can do about the cries that spill from his lips or the bone deep tremor in his legs. This is just what Callum does to him. 

It feels fucking delicious being cushioned against Callum's soft arse when he hits bottom. He tickles Callum’s sides to make him squirm and jerk and tighten, impossibly around the root of his cock. “ _Ahh..._ you feel so fucking good,” Ben grinds his hips into his pillowy softness just to really feel him. 

He slips his fingers under the straps of the harness and holds onto the warm leather to use as a rein. If Callum wants to act like a fucking animal down on the floor, then he’ll treat him like one. 

He pulls the straps taut and fucks him with long, slow strokes that are so mind numbingly intense it makes him shake. Every ridge of Callum’s spine stands proud as he arches his back up to meet Ben’s thrusts and the thought that he’s loving this just as much makes it so much better. 

In the mirror, they’re glorious, Ben’s hands with leather wound around and Callum contorted, in thrall to pleasure. 

Ben pulls sharply on the harness and elicits that beautiful sobbing sound from Callum. It cracks open something inside of him and he moves faster. Overtaken by some other force now he slams his hips, faster and faster. It isn’t enough, Callum groans and his fingers curl. Ben bounces frantically on bended knee and his heart speeds up to match the slap of skin on skin. 

Callum can take being ridden hard; the sounds he makes every time Ben rams his cock down deep are indescribable, inhuman. He bucks when Ben hits that bright spot inside him and jerks his arm hard, forgetting maybe that he's restrained, longing to reach beneath his belly for his aching cock. 

And then he utters it, something that makes his entire body convulse, “ _Ben_.” 

The love of his life, a willing hole to fuck, so pretty in leather and sobbing with pleasure now, has Ben's name on his lips. This, right now, is as close to heaven as he’ll ever be and he doesn’t want it to end. 

On the down thrust, he stops himself. Everything in his body screams at him to move but he fights the instinct with every ounce of strength he has. He tries to just _breathe_ and at first it works but Callum clenches around him and behind his eyes light up bright. 

He does this to him. He’s meant to be the one in control but Callum drives him fucking wild. 

Ben grabs a handful of his arse and squeezes hard, “Say it.” 

“Fuck me,” Callum moans around the words, he loves to hear himself say it and he loves to hear himself beg, “Please, please, fuck me.” 

He’s torn between denial and ecstasy. Callum is his, he wants to be his. There will be other nights like this one and they can’t hold on here in the in-between forever. 

Callum’s hands ball into fists as Ben begins to move. Instead of the harness, Ben grabs hold of the meat of his flesh, digging his fingernails into Callum’s pale skin and sets a hard, punishing pace, thrusting hard and fast until his lungs burn. 

When he looks up into the mirror, he sees all his muscles tense and moving. Callum bounces his arse to meet his thrusts, up, up, up until it feels as though they’re floating. 

There’s the familiar drawing in and pleasure pooling hot in his belly, they don’t have long. But it doesn’t matter because he gets it now, what they’re really doing here. 

"Come for me,” he growls, “If you’re mine... if you’re _really_ mine, you’ll come for me.” 

Ben reaches under Callum’s body and wraps his fingers around his leaking cock and he’s hit by blinding white light as Callum’s body reacts and seizes tight. 

Callum gasps, _Ben_ _Ben_ _Ben_ over and over as if all other language is forgotten but his name and shifts to open up even more to Ben, his poor face dragged along the carpet so he can part his legs wider. It’s impossible but Ben drives deeper inside of him until they’re so close it’s as if they were never apart and fuck, _fuck._

It’s over. 

Cum gushes hot over his hand and Callum yells his name, guttural, animal and loud enough to wake the dead downstairs. 

Ben’s thrusts stutter erratically as his orgasm bangs through his bones. He comes so hard he feels it everywhere. He claws at Callum and whimpers through gritted teeth as it builds and builds, it’s always so good with him, too fucking good, but _this_. 

“Fuck!” He yanks on the harness to keep him close as he fills him up, Callum’s twitching hole milking every last drop from him until he can practically taste the metallic twang of his orgasm. “Ohhh fuck,” Ben collapses on top of him, breathing hard. 

He has his answer, Callum is really his. Maybe not forever but tonight he is. It's a good feeling, he can't deny that. Filled with love for him, Ben kisses his back and hugs him as hard as he can. Callum's never belonged anywhere but he belongs to him. He belongs here. It isn't much but it's something and something is always better than nothing.

He wants to stay like this, still connected below the waist, resting in the afterglow but suddenly all he can think about is Callum’s poor face. 

He lifts himself up and manages to open the buckle on one cuff and put Callum’s arm down. The second one proves trickier but he manages eventually to open it and massages Callum’s straining bicep. Callum leans on his arms and lifts his face from the floor and now he just has to get him off his knees. 

He has to pull out but he doesn’t want to. That they have to be parted feels like a tragedy. He wiggles his hips and moves slowly but still he hears Callum’s nails dig into the carpet. “I’m sorry, baby. Are you okay?” 

“Mmm...” he hums, still incapable of finding any words. 

Ben needs to get him onto the bed. The bed that’s close enough to touch and yet feels a million fucking miles away. 

It takes wrapping his arms around his chest but Ben manages to help him kneel up and then the two of them work together to stand. It's a shit show, the kind of pantomime that makes Ben glad they're not being watched. He’s certain his legs won’t take his weight but somehow, he finds himself upright and Callum with him. 

Callum collapses onto the bed and lands with a thud that makes Ben wince but at least it’s a soft landing. Ben slumps on the edge of the mattress and almost slides right off but his boots keep him from falling, just. 

His boots. He’s never wearing his boots to fuck ever again not least because now he has to get them off when he can’t even feel his hands. He tugs at the laces and kicks at them toe to heel until they’re fired across the room then wrestles with his sweaty jeans. Being naked has never felt like such a relief. 

Before he passes out, he reaches for a blanket knowing there's no chance of manoeuvring Callum under the duvet just yet. It’s big and fluffy and he bundles them both up in it, Callum humming contentedly as he tucks it into his side and then finally, finally he gets to experience the most exquisite pleasure of all; lying down on his boyfriend's chest. 

He shouldn’t have done this yet, he should get up, Callum needs water, maybe something to eat, a kiss at least. “Wanna look after you... wanna make sure you’re okay...” 

“I know,” Callum slurs. 

He tries to sit up but now that he’s not exerting any energy, he hits the comedown and begins to shake. His teeth chatter and his body jolts and twitches uncontrollably until Callum puts his big arms around him and then everything quiets. They’re about to be swept away by sleep and there’s nothing he can do about it. 

Ben wakes up half an hour later with a dry throat and a headache. He props himself up on his elbow and looks down at his boyfriend. Half his face is indented with the weave of the carpet and he pets him lovingly, wishing he could make it disappear. 

He needs to get him out of the harness too, he can’t believe he let him sleep in it. 

The memory of the day they bought it fills his chest as unbuckles the straps. It was the first time Callum called him _boyfriend_ to a stranger and in a sex shop no less. It was only a week or two ago but the memory has the rosy glow of nostalgia. He isn’t used to that. 

Memories sting, they chafe until they’re forgotten or else are washed down with whiskey but it’s different with him. Callum feels like his past as well as his present as if he’s somehow been woven through the fabric of Ben’s entire life. 

Like with the breaking of a spell, Callum opens his eyes as soon as the last buckle of the harness is undone. He’s still hazy but a smile spreads across his face when he sees Ben. "Hey.” 

“Hey yourself. You okay?” 

“Yeah,” his smile brightens into dimples and sunshine. He’s happy, Ben is too. After what they just did, he isn’t sure he has the right to feel this way, like it’s any other weeknight, like they’re only tired because it’s late. 

“I’m uhh...” His mind blanks but a sudden stab of pain in his temples serves as a reminder. “I’m gonna get us some water. You wait here, yeah?” 

"Mm-hm...” Callum rolls over and gathers Ben’s pillow into his arms, hugging it close. He’s so cuddly after sex, it’s fucking adorable and Ben is disarmed by him and stops to watch him curl up, all warm and snuggly. Even after their night in the park he buried his face in Ben’s neck and stayed in his arms for the longest time after. He wished then that he could take him home to bed to hold him all night long, that he gets to now, every night no less, is nothing short of miraculous. 

He tears himself away and slips on one of Callum’s jumpers in case Stuart comes home and pads to the bathroom to wet a washcloth then fills two glasses of water in the kitchen. 

He’s about to return to his boyfriend when a shiver runs up his spine and he’s forced to set the glasses down on the countertop to stop them from spilling. Shit. It really isn’t getting any easier being alone in the dark in this flat. Before he came back here, he thought it might be haunted by the ghost of _him_ and he wondered what he'd say, how he’d stand it. It never occurred to him how much worse it would be to discover that it isn’t. 

The bedroom feels safer, maybe because he was never allowed in here when it belonged to Paul’s grandparents, neither of them were. Beyond the door there are only memories of Callum. 

_Callum._

He looks so peaceful tangled up in the blanket. It breaks Ben’s heart a bit having to help him to sit up to drink his water but more than anything he wants to take care of him. He wants to get it right this time. It does him good to watch Callum drink every last drop of water and afterwards he gets him under the duvet and lays him down with a hand at the nape of his neck. 

After he’s drained his own glass, he begins to clean Callum up, dabbing away the drool from his chin and the corners of his lips and then moves onto his chest. "You did so good tonight I'm so proud of you." 

"Did I?" 

Ben looks up, slightly startled by his voice. The apples of his cheeks are blooming candy floss pink. "God, baby, yes! So good." He bends over and scatters kisses across his warm skin like wet stars all the while mumbling, "So good for me, so good." 

"You were amazing too,” Callum says softly. 

Ben bites back a smile but he can’t deny it feels good to hear it. He moves lower with the wash cloth and his breath hitches when he sees Callum's stomach covered in red marks where the harness dug into it. 

"Poor baby," he rubs his hands over Callum's thighs and belly. 

"It don't matter, it'll fade. It er.. it looked alright, didn't it?" 

"Are you serious? It looked gorgeous, _you_ looked gorgeous. The way it framed your arse, be still my heart!” Callum covers his face and Ben pulls his hands away. “Did you feel good in it?” 

“Mm hm...” he turns his face to the side and buries it in the pillow. 

_Mm hm._

Ben chuckles, “You don’t need to be humble with me.” 

“I know.” 

He busies himself with wiping the cloth through the cum drying on Callum's stomach, normally they don’t bother with clean up, they just sleep in the mess of it and soap each other up come morning. But this is different. He wants Callum to know he’s-- 

"Why Max?" 

Ben glances up then averts his gaze, rubbing the cloth into his hip, “I always gave a fake name to the blokes I--” 

Callum puts two fingers under Ben’s chin to lift his face. “No, I mean... I get _that_. But why that name? Why Max?” 

"Dunno,” Ben shrugs, “Sounds manly, don’t it?" He tries to look away but Callum captures his face with both hands. 

"You are very manly, Ben." 

He scoffs, “Yeah alright, I didn’t say that.” 

“You, Ben - you’re the man of my dreams.” 

Shit. He can’t stand his eyes so earnest and full of light. The words are right there, _And you’re mine._ but instead, he takes hold of Callum’s wrists that still bear the marks of the cuffs, "Say my name,” he whispers. 

"Ben," Callum’s voice is warm honey, "Ben Mitchell." 

Somehow, it’s exactly what he needed to hear, “Say it again,” he gasps and though Ben kisses him, Callum does as he asks and mumbles his name, _Ben_ _Ben_ _Ben_ _,_ in a frenzy against his lips until his name doesn’t sound like a name anymore, it sounds like something new. 

Overwhelmed, he deepens the kiss, at first to shut Callum up but then gets lost in it, consumed by it. Callum’s hands roam along his bare back and keep him close and they kiss and kiss. The intimacy that comes with joining their sated bodies together reawakens a husk of something, hope maybe, that had been long forgotten inside his chest. Callum wants to be close because he wants to be close. Who else has ever known him so completely and still wanted to be close to him? 

When they pull apart, breathless, Callum cups his jaw and presses his palm over his heart, “I can handle it, Ben,” he whispers. 

"What?" 

"Everything you’ve got. All of it. I wish you'd..." He swallows the words and takes his time thinking of new ones, the heat of his palm searing Ben’s skin as he waits. "I'm tired of being nice, I’m tired of not saying things, of keeping shit inside." 

"I get that.” Saying it feels like a confession. 

"I know you do." His eyes flash dangerous or maybe Ben’s just imagining things. "We have something, Ben. It can be anything we want it to be.” 

Ben crinkles his nose, “ _Anything_?” 

Callum seizes his shoulder and rolls them both together. The room spins overhead and he lands on his back with a grunt. He lays still in shocked silence as Callum crawls over him and crowds him, looking down on him with an unreadable expression. The light coming through the curtain is blocked by his body shrouding Ben in darkness. 

There’s a beat when he doesn't know what’s going to happen. It excites him. It scares him. 

Callum leans in close and whispers in his ear, “Yeah, Ben. _Anything_.” 

Oh. 

Callum bows his head to kiss Ben’s neck and over his shoulder Ben sees the moon just outside the window through the gap in the curtains. Its light falls over them as their bodies melt together and when Ben lifts his hand up, it glows. _Huh_. He was so sure the moon wasn’t out tonight. 

“You know you’re stuck with me now.” _For now._

Callum smiles against his skin. “Good. And Ben?” He shifts to lay down on his side and Ben rolls over towards him. They settle with their legs tangled, heads on the same pillow, gazing into each other’s eyes. “There’s no place I’d rather be.” 

Ben snuggles closer until their noses are touching. Neither of them wants to move so they don’t. What transpired earlier in the night feels like nothing more than a dream, already half-forgotten. 

All those dark, endless nights they both endured turn to dust the moment Callum kisses the tip of his nose, dust that settles around them, unnoticed, for now, at least. 

And together they glow, content and peaceful, transformed into moonlight. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I don't think I've ever been so scared to share something in my life. I'm hitting post just after 3am or I'll never do it. I'm tempted to keep rambling here so I can put this off a while longer but I think I'm just going to go for it, if you're seeing this, I went for it lmao love yas x
> 
> eta This isn't and never will be a How To guide to kink but I will always depict scenes that are safe, sane and consensual and there will always be aftercare which will evolve as they both learn.
> 
> // poursomesugarzombie.tumblr.com //


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